AN: HELLO MY LOVELIES! I AM BACK AND READY FOR ANOTHER NEW STORY BECAUSE I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL.
BUT I GENERALLY THINK THIS IS A GOOD ONE!
SO NO RAMBLY AUTHORS NOTE. LET'S JUST JUMP RIGHT INTO IT! I GIVE YOU THE FIRST CHAPTER OF "ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMESTRIS"
AND YES THE TITLE IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE BECAUSE… IT'S NOT MY FAVORITE… BUT I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE
PLEASE ENJOY AND PRETTY PLEASE REVIEW! I PROMISE I DON'T BITE!
DISCLAIMER: BELIEVE IT OR NOT I-ALMOST TWENTY SIX (MOST LIKELY 26 BY THE TIME YOU'RE READING THIS)-YEAR OLD WHO WAS SIX WHEN THE MANGA FIRST STARTED AND WHO CAN'T DRAW IF HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT-DOES NOT OWN THE BRILLIANT FULL METAL ALCHEMIST. WE ALL KNOW WHO THAT BELONGS TO AND I WILL NEVER BE ON HER LEVEL IN ANY WAY. BUT FUN FACT WE DO HAVE BIRTHDAYS CLOSE TO EACH OTHER!
~ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMESTRIS~
~CHAPTER ONE~
~THE ATOMIC BOMB~
Riza Hawkeye's boots clanked against the smooth, cold stone floor as she moved down the ornate halls she knew so well. Her broad shoulders were held tall and erect. Her thick blonde mane was pulled off her neck. She held her head high, keeping her gaze steely and her large chocolate eyes straight ahead. A frigid air of authority hovered around the Major, keeping all others at bay. Some would glance her way with timid eyes or offer a small, cordial smile. Some who had broken into the elite circle she moved in greeted her with a stiff salute and brisk "Good morning Major." In return she would respond with an equally stiff salute and a tight smile.
All the while Riza refused to drop the icy, distant aura engulfing her. It was her only protection from prying, curious eyes. Whether it was due to her air of authority or her harden gaze she was given a wide girth.
All for the best.
It meant no one noticed how faded and pallor her ivory skin looked. No one saw how her calloused hands gripped the files she held for dear life. No one was able to detect the weariness and terror burning beneath those steady eyes.
Not a soul knew… and that was precisely how Riza wanted it. Sweet, beautiful ignorance was all that kept her moving forward. It allowed her to meander through her day as if nothing was wrong.
As long as she kept moving forward everything would be fine.
"Just keep moving. Just keep moving"
Riza repeated the words on an endless loop, letting them skin deep into her bones. On and on the mantra went with each clacking step in the vein hope it was a reality.
None of it mattered.
The Major couldn't drown the knot clawing at her stomach. It radiated throughout her body, slowly infecting the chant circling in her head. It reminded her of an ugly truth she had been trying to steal into the depths of her soul;
Nothing was fine.
Nothing was fine, and there was no possible way for her to right it.
The brutal reality smacked her square in the face when her journey came to an end.
Riza found herself face to face with a pair of large, dark sumptuous doors. For a moment all she could do was stare at the intricate cravings and listen to her pounding heart. She could already feel her limbs and muscles grow numb. Her blood slowed to ice, sending shivers throughout her body. The sea of chatter and stomping boots morphed into nothing but roaring static.
Riza's lips pursed into a hard line. She dug her nails into the abused files, letting her chest heave with a large breath. With a short, rapid blink she reached towards the cool handle and pushed the door open.
She was greeted by a large, open room swimming in sunlight. Despite her drumming heart and fragile nerves, Riza's lips fought the urge to smile.
Everything about the airy room was blessedly mundane; everything from the grand window to the emerald chairs were unspeakably soothing. The symphony of scratching pens, rustling papers and screaming phones sliced through the wall of static. She felt a twinge of warmth as familiar voices danced in her ears.
This benign setting was almost enough to break through the wall she had erected. Her lips almost dared to turn into a small, friendly smile… until one voice rose above the chatter.
"Major General Mustang."
The moment the deep, warm, baritone voice danced in her ears all warmth faded. Riza's iron barriers were impenetrable once more. Every inch of her frame was numb and frigid. In fact, Riza could have sworn she felt her lungs contract and her heart stop.
The whole world stopped.
Riza swallowed, readjusting the files clutched to her chest. She kept her shoulders tight and square. The wall morphed into rigid steel, cloaking the fear screeching in her head.
The only spark of relief came from the fact she was a fly on the wall.
All eyes were focused on the scattered sheets of paper and other various task. All were ignorant of the creaking door or Riza's creaking steps. Even the illustrious Major General-who always seemed to know the sound of her boots and stiff gate-was occupied with the phone in his hands.
Riza kept her head down as she pulled out her chair and sat. She quietly placed her paperwork in front of her and dived deep into them.
Rigid and regular… there was nothing out of the ordinary about the thin sheets of stark white paper resting before her. The small, ebony letters were neat and orderly. Riza could feel her heart rate begin to slow and her soul begin to relax, even with the Major General's voice prattling behind her. If her attention held to the work before her all the wave of emotions and thoughts would fade into nothing.
"Oh, good morning Major Hawkeye." Lieutenant Havoc said, taking a long drag of his beloved cigarette. Riza held up her hand and gave a small wave, ignoring the sudden swirling in her stomach.
"Good morning Lieutenant Havoc. If you don't mind, please don't smoke near me." She mindlessly batted the powerfully foul smoke away from her face. The tall, strong framed blonde cocked his head. His cornflower blue eyes narrowed. Havoc crossed his arms over his broad chest as he reached up and plucked the offensive object from his thin lips.
"I'm sorry Major. I didn't think you minded." Havoc claimed, snuffing out his cigarette.
"She's probably tired of all the secondhand smoke. I think we all are at this point." A short, stocky auburn hair man barked. The room filled with mundane, comfortable chuckles. Any other day Riza would have felt the corner of her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles and her eyes roll.
On that brisk late winter day Riza remained detached, her dark eyes frozen to her safe, familiar work.
"Ha ha very funny Breda." Havoc drawled, sitting his tall frame back in the chair. "Hey, isn't tomorrow bring your dog to work day?" He questioned. Havoc tilted his up to gaze at the ceiling, tapping his finger to his chin. "I'm sure my big shepherd dog would love to meet you."
"DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT!" Breda shrieked, leaping out of his chair as all color drained from his tanned skin.
The Major remained unphased by the bickering, letting the sharp words and biting laughter roll off her shoulders. Her lips collapsed into a hard line, her ivory skin growing paler. Had anyone glanced her way they would have seen the green tint to her skin.
Much to her relief the room remained buzzing.
Havoc and Breada continued their banter, forgoing any attempt at feigning interest in their jobs.
Then there was second Lieutenant Fury. The pale, dark haired man was the smallest and frailest of the men. His bespectacled face was lost in his radio, his expert hands tinkering away.
There was First Lieutenant Falman. The graying man was the only officer who showed and ounce of Riza's tireless drive. His large frame was slumped over his desk, his pen diligently scratching on smooth paper.
Finally, there was Major General Roy Mustang.
Though she refused to glance his way or acknowledge his existence, Riza could all to clearly picture the esteemed man. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs and arms both crossed. One hand gripped the phone and held it to his squared face. A pen dangled carelessly between the rough fingers of his other hand. His mess of midnight hair fell effortlessly into his moon slit, onyx eyes.
The very thought of Roy made Riza's heart sputter, and all the tension in her body climb to her throat. Every fiber of her being wanted-no needed- to fool herself into believing he didn't exist. His very presence sent her heart flying and her soul mad. Her fingers ached to run through his ebony mane. Her skin tingled for his fingers to trace every inch of her. Her lips burned. Riza wanted to ignore him and the fire he ignited deep within herself.
Yet it was impossible to block his baritone tones tickling her ears.
It was impossible to neglect the panic tearing her stomach apart.
If she didn't know any better, Riza could have sworn her stomach was nothing more than liquid.
Riza's pen came to halt as her stomach gave a violent churn. Burning bile climbed up her throat. Any remaining color fell from her oval face. A vile green hue possessed her alabaster features.
"Not now." She thought, her free hand flying to her stomach. Her eyes fluttered shut as her breathing grew slow and labored. She staid as still as stone, praying her tumbling stomach would settle. Riza forced her eyes open. She willed her quivering hands to move-yet her stomach continued to swim.
Finally, the bile burst into her mouth. Without a second thought the Major rose from her chair and bounded to the door, bursting it open.
"Major?! Are you okay?" Fury cried, shooting up from his chair. All officers gazed at the open door, taking in the grand expanse of the humming hallway. Their faces were etched with stunned concern. Even Roy-who had otherwise been occupied with his phone call-gawked at the door, letting the phone slip through his fingers. He stood up, letting his hands fall to his desk.
"Okay… something is up with her." Breda said, echoing what everyone else had been thinking.
"Yeah. Come to think of it wasn't she late because of a doctor's appointment she made at the last minute?" Havoc mused, bringing his hand to his chin once more. Roy blinked for a moment, the gears in his head slowly churning.
A last-minute doctor's appointment…
Her request for Havoc to stop smoking around her…
A sudden bout of nausea…
Roy's eyes widened as the dots quickly began to connect.
Could it be….
The Major General shook his head and waved his hand.
"She's fine. I'm sure it's just a bug." He claimed. He happily let the words replace any stray thought and shield him from the curious stares around him.
"Back to work!" Roy barked, plopping back into his chair. Like the obedient underlings they were, each officer gave a salute and returned to their task. Roy leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. His full lips curled into a satisfied, demonic grin. His chest bloomed with pride at the ordinary, mundane scene before him.
These were his men, his closest confidants and most trusted allies. They had saved the world together, and now they were fighting to keep their new, fragile peace together.
Not only was a new world being forged from the bones of bloodshed and loss, but their whole way of life was also up in the air.
Fuhrer King Grumman had slipped into the heavens almost a year ago, and much to the surprise of an entire nation the throne continued to remain empty.
This new world was full of chaos, uncertainty, hope and above all else opportunity.
And all of it was happening under his watchful eye.
"MAJOR GENERAL! MAJOR GENERAL MUSTANG!" Roy jumped out of his skin, his heart exploding. He bent down and yanked the phone, thrusting it back into his ear.
"My apologies sir. I dropped the phone and got distracted by one of my officers. Continue, please." The voice on the other end continued to twiddle and piddle about this and that and this and that. The words went in one ear and out the other as a soft hiss. His eyes were focused on the open door, waiting for a certain Major's comforting and stoic features. He needed to hear her calm, commanding voice amongst the chatter.
God help him, but he wanted to hear that voice scold him into productivity.
He just wanted to see if she was okay.
When Riza made her way back into the room, his anxiety began to peak. The blond moved as if nothing had happened. Her shoulders were tall and stiff, her head was held high, and her hands were clasped behind her back. Riza was every inch the perfect soldier.
Yet the very sight of her sent Roy's heart falling into his stomach.
Her skin was as white as bone, colored with a pale green hue. There was a line of sweat dotting her temples and brow. Her deep, chocolate eyes were glazed and stared at nothing.
"Hey, Major, are you okay?" Havoc asked, his blue eyes glued to her as she returned to her seat.
"I'm fine." Riza claimed, lifting her pen and scribbling as if she hadn't just emptied her stomach.
"Are you sure?" Havoc leaned in, taking in the major's feeble features. "You look kind of green. And didn't you go to the doctors this morning"
Riza's pen froze, and her eyes narrowed. She took in a breath of air through her nose as she slowly raised her head.
"Were you listening to my private conversations First Lieutenant Havoc?" Riza questioned, her voice low and frigid. Havoc threw up his hands and pushed his chair far away from the glaring Major.
"No no! I didn't do anything like that I just"
"Relax Havoc I'm not going to shoot you." Riza sighed. "I did go to the doctor and it was kind of last minute, but it was just a normal appointment-nothing serious. As for what just happened the doctor thinks I have a touch of a stomach bug, but I'll be fine."
Roy's eyes narrowed and zeroed in on the major. He watched her return to her stack of files, ignoring the chittering voice in his ear. He paid close attention to her movements, the cloudiness in her eyes and her trembling frame.
"Major General are you listening to me?!" Roy glanced towards the phone and held it away from his face.
"I'm sorry General I'm going to have to call you back." Before the voice on the other end had the chance to destroy his ear drum, he slammed the phone on its hook.
"Rotten bastard trying to make me go deaf" He muttered.
"Major General did you just hang up on General Schmidt?" Riza asked, looking at Roy with a sober face.
"Yeah, I did, and I'll pay for it later." Roy claimed. He stood up and without a word made his way out of the room.
His officers looked at each other, their confusion radiating throughout the large room. The bewilderment in the air only grew thicker when the Major General marched in with a cup of water clasped in his hand. Roy went straight to Riza and placed the cup beside her.
"You are going to drink this cup of water and they you are going home to recover." Riza stiffened, her fingernails digging into the thin paper.
"With all due respect sir I am perfectly"
"Are you disobeying a direct order from your superior Major Hawkeye?" Roy asked, leaning in closer to her. Riza froze, her eyes narrowing into a glare. For a moment, the two locked eyes as they attempted to dig into each other's souls. After her stomach gave another, violent churn Riza's iron resolve broke.
"Of course not sir." She brought the cup to her lips, taking a large gulp of water. The cool liquid soothed her scratchy, aching throat. It seemed to give her a new surge of life. She would never say as such out loud, but she was thankful for Major General's god given gift to avoid work.
"Just let me finish working on the file I started and then I'll go." Roy nodded, his lips twisting int a victorious smirk.
"Thank you Major. I hope you know I am just looking out for your wellbeing." Roy claimed as he strode pridefully back to his desk.
"Yes sir, that's very kind of you." Riza nodded, busily jotting away. Roy continued to smize, his ego expanding like a balloon.
"I hope you know that most of these files need to be completed and taken to various departments today, and since everyone else is occupied and I'm not going to be here you're going to have to finish them."
Silence fell over the room as all eyes turned towards the still smizing Roy Mustang. He blinked at Riza for a moment, all thoughts vanishing as her words threatened to slap him back to reality.
"I'm sorry but why would I have to do YOUR files Major?" He chuckled, his ego only continuing to grow by the second.
Riza lifted her head and turned her focus on the smirking Major General. Gone was any trace of how ill she had felt. Her gaze was no longer lost and glassy, her expression free from mark of exhaustion and sweat. Roy was faced with a cold, clear stare that threatened to go to the jugular of his massive pride.
"But sir you forget that these files are for you and I'm simply helping you lighten your workload by handling them for you. So yes, you will have to do them."
The famous-or infamous-ego popped, causing Roy's chest to deflate. His shoulders slumped and his head hung.
"God damn it." He muttered, letting his head fall into his hands.
Riza let her lips curl into the faintest of smiles as she continued to sip the water. Light snickers filled the room as Roy pondered his life choices.
Particularly the one where he taught Riza how to expertly forge his signature.
He lifted his head when he heard Riza's foots clanking towards him. He found himself greeted with an outstretch hand a clean, if slightly abused, manila file held out towards him. He scowled before snatching it out of her hand.
"I appreciate your generosity today Major General." Riza said, straightening her stance and planting her feet together. "I did finish that file as I said I would. However, I would appreciate if you would give it a quick look over. "She stated. Roy's ebony eyes hardened as he lips twisted with aggravation.
In all the years she had worked under him Riza's work had been nothing short of perfection. She was usual the eyes he trusted to look over his work.
What kind of game was she playing?
"Really? You want me to look this over?" He questioned in a slow, careful draw. Riza gave a sharp nod.
"Yes Sir."
"And you want me to do it right now?"
Another nod.
"Yes, Sir that would be preferable."
Roy huffed, causing strands of his wild mane to fly off his face.
When he opened the folder, he expected to be greeted by the depressingly familiar sight of paper work filled in Riza's expert hand.
What he saw instead were those papers underneath a small note.
Come to my place AFTER you finish your work. We need to talk.
Roy snapped to attention, his back straight against his soft leather chair. His eyes grew wide as color slowly began to drain from his face. His limbs went cold. The dots he had tried to ignore once again began to connect, sending his heart into a marathon.
"She couldn't be… She can't be…"
"Is there a problem Sir?"
Roy raised his head, his eyes still wide with shock. The Major continued to stand still the only way a soldier could, her eyes never leaving his pale face. It took every ounce of power for Roy's eyes to stay connected to hers and not travel to her seemingly unassuming abdomen. Every instinct screamed for him to grab her arm, drag her far away and force her to say what he already knew.
What did the illustrious Major General, former war hero and savior of his nation do?
He carefully slipped the note in his pocket, closed the file, placed it on his desk and cleared his throat.
"No. Your work is perfection as always Major Hawkeye. Everything is fine." Roy claimed. He stood, mimicking Riza's stoic posture. The look of pure incredulity and shock had melded into the cold, professional features they all knew so well.
"That will be all today. You are dismissed with orders to rest, understood?"
Riza gave one last nod, clicked her heels together and saluted.
"Sir." Roy copied her salute before she turned and strode out of the shining room. All eyes were on her as she faded into the crowd. Then, much to Roy's horror, their perplexed, suspicious gazes all landed on him. Roy felt as if a spotlight had been shone on him, making his skin begin to crawl. Those eyes all seemed to ask one, central question'
"What the hell is going on?"
If they expected any answer they were sorely mistaken.
Mustang's cold professionalism turned hard, his eyes narrowing once more and his face tightening with aggravation.
"What on Earth are you all staring at?" He roared, marching over to Riza's desk and grabbing her files.
"I have a lot of work to do and so do you! So get back to work so we may have a prayer of getting out on time or maybe earlier!"
The hours seemed to climb at a pace that would put a snail to shame. Every time Roy glanced at the clock expecting hours to have flown by, he was horrified to see only minutes or even seconds had passed. It stung like a bee. Each sheet of paper he was forced to glance over, and sign was another weight on his frame, keeping him glued to his god forsaken chair. Roy wasn't even sure he was aware of what he was reading. The words just seemed to fly by in a strange blur without the chance to truly settle in. As long as nothing jumped out as particularly reckless or idiotic Roy was more than happy to robotically sign each slip of paper if it meant freedom from that chair.
It didn't help that whenever he dared to glance away from his work or the clock Roy found himself greeted with cautious, questioning stares. Their eyes would meet for a split second before they immediately darted back to their work.
The tension in the room grew thicker and thicker with each tick of the clock. Roy was uncharacteristically zealous in his attempt at productivity, plowing through the thick pile as if it were nothing but water. His subordinates continued to work while they watched and whispered. Their curious eyes and ears hunted for any clues or any scrap of information. It was clear from the Major General's tense posture there was something brewing under that stoic face.
No one dared to raise their suspicions or even concern for their comrade. The day continued in heavy, graceless silence that could be cut with a knife. Only the sound of shuffling papers, scratching pens, ringing phones and the conversations that followed rose in the tense atmosphere.
All the while Roy forced himself to focus on anything else but the growing dread in his gut and his racing thoughts.
It was pointless.
Despite his robotic actions all his mind could focus on was Riza.
The sudden bouts of nausea…
The last-minute doctor appointment…
And above all else the note commanding him to her place.
If his suspicions hadn't been raised before, that simple note said all it needed to say.
What Roy needed more than anything else to hear Riza say the words out loud, to confirm what he had been speculating throughout the day.
It was pure torture to have the truth dangling just above him, taunting him with its uncertainty.
And then, after hours and hours of this suffocating madness it was over. Roy reached for yet another file, taking a moment to glance at the clock yet again. Much to his intense relief the hands pointed in the direction he had been longing for all day.
5:00.
Roy eyes glanced back to the file. It seemed that as soon as one was completed another was added on top of it. As a result the Major General had barely made a dent despite all his hard work. For a moment he was left sitting and glaring, wondering how none of this could be done by any of the other souls wondering the halls. More to the point it left him with two options.
As he continued to sit and pout the many soldiers, officers and their staff were leaving the confinements of the garishly ornate building to the regular world. They would return to their family, their friends and their lives. Roy's subordinates were no different… he was no different.
Yet Riza's simple note weighed him down to the chair. It didn't matter how urgent matter seemed to be-and if his fears were correct, it was a horrifically urgent matter-Riza would show no mercy if she found left his work uncompleted and unattended.
He grimaced. There was no question with path he would take.
Roy dropped the file on top of the pile. He pushed back his chair and stood, giving his shoulders a great stretch. His subordinates looked on with trepidation as he waltzed his way to the coat rack.
"I know we haven't finished our work yet but it's 5:00 and it's Friday." Roy began. He grabbed his long black coat and slung it over his shoulders. He slipped in his arms and gave it a tug. He had expected to hear a chorus of chairs scrapping against the floor and joyful chatter. At the very least one of the men should have exclaimed their thankfulness to God for having a Friday evening to themselves.
Instead, he was greeted with a dumbfounded silence and perplexed stares.
"What?!" Roy snapped, swinging his head over his shoulder. "Is there a problem?"
His subordinates exchanged glances each other. They stared for a tense a moment as Roy glowered down at them.
Havoc was the one to break the silence. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips, just waiting to be ignited.
"Well not really." Havoc said. He reached for his trusty lighter and flicked it, bringing his cigarette to life. All the while he remained unbothered by the Major Generals relentless glare.
"It's just that weren't we supposed to get all of this done BEFORE we left. Or you know… at least YOU were supposed to?" Havoc questioned. He took an impossibly long drag of his cigarette as all eyes bore on him. Roy crossed his arms, his stormy glare exploding into outright aggravation. Roy's hands balled into fist as his lips curled into a snarl.
"Lieutenant Havoc you let ME worry about my own business!" Roy swung his head forward and he grabbed hold of his hips. He marched out of the room with a face so red and boiling steam seemed to pour out of his ears. He left his men gaping in awe as he stormed away. The bustling hallways seemed to part like the red sea as thundered past them. He was once more the subject of the world's prying eyes and hushed whispers… as if he couldn't see or hear any of it.
"What has gotten into him?"
"None of your damn business you brown noser."
"I don't know he's always mad about something."
"I am NOT!"
"Major Hawkeye left early today didn't she? Maybe that has something to do with it."
"Yeah maybe."
Roy stuffed his hands in his pocket as he continued to weave through the cold, stony gaze. He kept his head forward, refusing to look at any of the people gawking at him. He tried to keep the chittering whispers at bay, turning them into nothing but maddening background noise.
After all Roy was perfectly used to the baseless gossip that surrounded him. One does not become a Major General when approaching 33 without the ire of the public and the lashing of their tongues. It didn't matter how far he climbed or what he had sacrificed for his country and his people.
They would always stare.
They would always murmur and mutter.
Under routine circumstances this attitude wouldn't have resulted in more than a smirk of satisfaction.
On that bracing, shining day when his life seemed on the verge of chaos once again it all seemed pointless.
There were far more greater things for him to worry about than mindless banter.
However, when Roy finally left the world of the military and entered normality his shoulders felt lighter. His whole being felt lighter. It was as if the thin, frigid winter air filled his lungs and breathed new life into him. Maybe it was the glowing sun shining on his alabaster skin that made him feel at peace and melt the tension riddling his body. Or maybe it was the bustling, breathing world of East City that distracted his wandering thoughts. It was harder to become lost in his thoughts with so much life buzzing around him. More to the point it allowed him to fade into the background, become one of many despite his elevated stature. Not a soul seemed to care that the Flame Alchemist was walking on the same cobbled streets they did. He used this beautiful moment of clarity and anonymity to take the note out of his pocket and read it once more.
We need to talk.
Roy lifted his eyes from the note with a blank face and steady eyes. The small and all to monumental scrap of paper fluttered out of his fingers and into the breeze. With a quiet snap of his fingers, it disappeared into ashes.
Roy knew this sense of stability and contentment was fragile and temporary. The moment he crossed the threshold of Riza's apartment it would be completely and utterly destroyed.
When he entered that humble space she called home, Roy Mustang would find out he was going to be a father.
Roy clenched his hands deep in his pockets. Before he laid eyes on that hastily crafted note he may have been able to buy her tall tale. After all there was nothing out of the ordinary of someone going to the doctor, nor was there anything strange about someone coming down with a stomach bug. Every explanation had been so dull there was no logical reason to question them if it were not for his overly active imagination.
But that note…
Unless he had misread every signal and over blew every sign, there was no mistaking what conversation was awaiting him. Of course, there was always the possibility he had flown head long over the mark. Outside of her note there was nothing out of the ordinary about her actions or her request. It was entirely plausible Riza simply needed to speak to him on something entirely different, and he would have a good laugh at himself.
The closer and closer he came to Riza's apartment the more fantastic the idea seemed. As he spotted it in the distance Roy's heart began to race once more. It seemed to pound in his head and make it scream. His fingers began to twitch on the inside of his pocket, desperately searching for the cool chain of his pocket watch. Once found he wrapped it around his rough fingers and pulled the watch to his palm. He gave it a squeeze. It allowed him one last moment of strength. It kept his head on the ground as he slowly climbed the stairs and stepped on to her floor.
It was only a short walk down a clean, plain hallway before he reached her door.
Roy stood motionless against the beige carpet. His head immediately began to spin and whirl. He bowed his head to not only have a pray of remaining one of many, but to give him a precious moment to clear his head.
Just because all signs pointed in one direction didn't mean that was the path before him.
There was no way to know for certain what would come out of her pretty mouth.
So there was no need for the cold terror beginning to overtake him or his out of control notions.
Roy let his silver pocket watch fall back into the soft fabric with a thud. He lifted his head and came face to face with an unpretentious, plain door.
He breathed in deeply through his nose, held his breath and knocked.
There was first a storm of frantic barks. Roy could hear the sound of claws scraping against the floor as the dog ran towards the door.
"Quiet Black Hayate!" Riza commanded. Ever the obedient dog Black Hayate gave one last whimper before settling back into an agitated silence.
"Come in it's open!" Riza called once the dog had quieted.
It was now or never.
Roy opened the door and with a racing heart, spinning head and frigid soul he stepped inside.
"Colonel." Riza nodded, her lips twisting into the slightest of smirks. It was nearly impossible for Roy to not return her smirk or overlook how his heart fluttered.
"Lieutenant." He returned, silently relishing the comfort of their old titles.
He found Riza lying contently on the couch with a thin blanket over her lap. Black Hayate laid on the floor. The moment his soft brown eyes laid on Roy his ears perked and his tail began to swing back and forth. A glass of water sat on a nearby table. Her small radio filled the simple, unassuming room with gentle music. Riza had discarded her royal blue navy uniform for a pair of thin, pale pink pajama's. Her thick blond hair fell gracefully down her shoulders and chest, framing her face. The Major General would have smirked at the sight. Everything was so painfully normal it soothed his spiraling soul. Then there was her hair… Out of all of his many accomplishments, convincing the stubborn Riza Hawkeye to grow out her beautiful tresses once more was one of his greatest.
His smirk was halted by a sight that made his blood run cold.
In one of Riza's hands was a small book. That was not an unusual sight. Her free hand, however, was not stroking Black Hayate as it normally would.
It was draped over her stomach.
"I'm glad you came." Riza smiled as she placed her book on the coffee table. "I'm sorry I didn't come to the door to greet you or that I'm not standing now. I'm still a little"
"Riza I know what you want to tell me."
Riza's gentle smile faded as what colored remained bled from her pale skin. Her deep brown orbs were wide and brimming with trepidation. Those eyes remained attached to Roy as he made his way to her. He stood between the couch and the coffee table, looming over her rigid frame like a dark cloud.
But his eyes….
When Riza met those onyx slits she found herself staring into a mirror. They were just as wide and filled with the same foreboding.
Neither of them was aware of how much time had passed in this foreboding silence. Time seemed to have lost all meaning. There was nothing either was willing or able to do but just stare and wait;
Wait for time to resume once more…
Wait for their voices to work….
Wait for someone to have the courage to break the strangling silence.
It was ultimately Roy who discovered an ounce of his courage. He swallowed hard as his hands began to tremble. Even before anything was said his heart refused to stop racing and head refused to stop spinning.
Yet he found it- the will to speak what both feared to utter.
"You're…. you're…."
"Pregnant?" Riza chimed in, her voice quiet and thin. "Yes. Yes I am."
WOOO THAT WAS A LONG ONE LAIDES AND GENTS BUT I AM SO STINKING PROUD OF IT! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND PLEASE STAYED TUNE FOR CHAPTER TWO!